Our forever family was ripping apart at the seams.
I had just finished a long, grueling day of my third college semester. I was taking too many credits in the short spring term. I knew I could handle it. I had to. The bonus to my long school days was less time at home. But every evening the time still came for heading home. Home life filled me with anxiety and dread, but moving out on my own filled me with greater fear. I had no money, no friends, nothing but my dysfunctional forever family.
Mom was wilting on the couch. She must have had a long day with her elementary art students. But still, what about dinner?!? We all had to eat didn’t we? With no compassion, I complained, “Who’s fixing dinner?!? Why isn’t it started?!? Am I going to have to make it AGAIN?!?”
I headed for the stairs and was greeted by our little dog who welcomed me home by excitedly peeing on the carpeted step. Great. Just great. I got some rags and cleaner and quietly started soaking up the moisture. With the contention in the air, I knew enough to not make an issue about the dog. However Mom felt differently. She came upstairs just as I was finishing. She opened the master bedroom door and yelled to my dad, “YOUR dog peed again!”
A pretty nasty argument ensued. I was guessing it wasn’t their first tiff of the evening.
My 14 year-old sister and I begrudgingly went down to the kitchen to see what we could throw together as quickly as possible. Mom came to join us soon after with silent tears on her cheeks.
My sister was bawling uncontrollably.
There was no escape from the kitchen. We were cornered in by bodies and by words that left us paralyzed. It surprised me so much lately that Dad had so much HATE for my mom. Why? What had she done to deserve this?!?
Mom shouted, “GET OUT If you’re going to be like this! GO ON!!” To this day I still have no idea if she was talking to my dad, my brother, or both of them.
In the next moment, my brother raced out muttering something about going to tell the Bishop who lived just down the street from us. Dad ran outside too and started screaming out in the street. Mom was desperately trying to get them to come back inside.
Instead, Dad grabbed his keys and drove away.
I wondered if he was going to be gone the entire night like he had last time. Part of me wished he would never come back. Part of me wished that I had given Dad a huge bear hug in the kitchen instead of a big push.
Mom and my sister went after my brother. I went up to my room and just crumbled. A torrential downpour escaped my eyes.
So this is my forever family. Lovely.
When the tears finally subsided, I opened up my dusty scriptures. In the New Testament, I found the third chapter of Colossians.
“Fathers provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged.” (vs. 21)
In my family it always felt like it was us children provoking the discouraged father.
“Wives submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord.”
Yes, my Mom should have submitted a bit more by nagging and yelling less. But, it said only “as it is fit in the Lord.” Nothing was fit in the Lord right now between my Mom and Dad.
“Husbands, love your wives and be not bitter against them.”
All there was right now was bitterness.
It also talked about “putting off anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy communication out of your mouth.”
Hmmm. Those words described Dad’s words a little too well tonight. Spooky how much so. Except he didn’t put it off, he let it out!
“Put on mercies, kindness, humbleness, meekness, longsuffering, forbearing one another, forgiving one another, and if any have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.”
This chapter was speaking to my soul. These words of advice were the keys for a happy, healthy, forever family! And we were doing the opposite of what these scriptures were saying! I was just a child in this family of ours though. What could I do? How could I help my family?!?
“Give thanks to God and ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.”
Right then and there I knew I needed to pray.
How else could I directly give my thanks to God? What could I begin to be thankful for tonight though? And how could I have the courage to approach God when it had been so long since I had knelt before Him?
I went to the bathroom and locked the door. This was the truly only private place I could go to pray. I wasn’t guaranteed interruptions, but at least I knew I could be safe and alone there. After a minutes into my emotional prayer I asked Heavenly Father what I could do to help my family. Instantly the word, “Serve” popped into my mind. The clarity of that word struck me intently. I had a new purpose. With a newly cleansed attitude, I would do my best to serve my family and see what would happen.